


A Christmas Carol, Tony Stark

by bedb



Category: A Christmas Carol - Fandom, Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Christmas Time, Humor, Lola has soul, Tony is Scrooge, Ugly Elvis shirts, ghosts visit Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedb/pseuds/bedb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is visited by the ghosts of Christmas Present, Past and Future. Bruce Banner is his Bob Cratchit. Sam and Steve are the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Thor is the Ghost of Christmas present, Natasha and Bucky are the Ghosts of Christmas Future. Phil and Lola visit Tony to warn him about ugly Hawaiian shirts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Narrator: Coulson was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Stark signed it. And Stark’s name was good upon the 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Coulson was as dead as a door-nail. 

Tony: No he’s not.

Narrator: For the sake of the story pretend he is.

Tony: What if I decide not to play along?

Narrator: Then we can conjure up Howard. (Narrator waits for Tony to contemplate working with Coulson or his long dead father)

Tony: No, Coulson’s good. I’m cool with it.

Narrator. Good. Did Stark know he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Stark and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Stark was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and sole mourner. And even Stark was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral and even managed to make a couple of bucks in the process.

Tony: Can we skip to the story?

Narrator: (frowns) Coulson has been dead seven years, but his name was still on the door. Better?

Tony: Improvement but no Oscar.

Narrator: Tony was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Stark! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog days; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas. 

Tony: Stick and stones…blah blah.

Narrator: External heat and cold had little influence on Stark. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often came down handsomely, and Stark never did. 

Tony: Look Charlie…Dickens. Let’s skip the narration and go on to the story.

It was an unusually cold winter, but Tony had no qualms with it. Cold didn’t bother him. Just sitting in his office going over his bank statements was enough to warm his coddles and make him smile. Boy genius millionaire, now fabulously wealthy super hero. Life just didn’t get better that this. What did he care that no one liked him? So what if even blind men’s’ dogs avoided him and dragged their masters out of his way. So what! Who cared that he dined alone? He didn’t like people anyway, always wanting something for nothing…please Mr. Stark, won’t you Mr. Stark…how about? No!  
Raising his head from his bank statement, he checked the monitor to see if his minion, Bruce Banner was still working in the lab on something that would add more money to his already obscenely large net worth or just goofing off, trying to warm his hands with a Bunsen burner.

“I see you, Banner,” he growled into the monitor.

Banner hurriedly returned to work when the lab door opened and in walked in Stark’s second cousin twice removed Peter Parker. “Merry Christmas, Cousin Tony!”

“Bah humbug,” Tony snorted wondering why the hell Jarvis had allowed that nitwit into Stark Towers. “Why are you here, leeching money again?”

“No!” Peter respond with a look of shock and dismay on his face. “I came to invite you to my home for Christmas dinner. Got me a nifty chick who can cook.”

“Nifty chick who can cook?” Tony responded aghast. “Is she American?”

Peter dropped his head and blushed. “No, she’s a mail order bride from Ooglestan. I’m helping her get her citizenship papers,” he explained. “And she’s a great cook.”

“Good day.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Tony frowned hard at his cousin. “Get out you idiot!”

“Oh? Oh! Yeah, sorry. The offer’s open if you change your mind.”

“Good day!”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Go!”

Peter skipped out, but in doing so he allowed two smartly dressed Hydra assassins into the room. “Uh, Stark in?” Rumlow asked curiously.

“I see you Brock, and the answer is hell no!”

“But Mr. Stark, since the fall of Shield and Hydra, Jack and I have been going around collecting money in hopes of bringing some cheer to our unemployed comrades.”

“If you had any sense you’d take the money and go to Tahiti. I hear it’s a magical place.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that too,” Rumlow admitted while wishing he was talking face to face with the man and not a mechanical squawk box over his head. Ass hole.

“Hey, I got an idea, why don’t you hurry after Peter Parker who just left here. I understand he’s having Turkey dinner and all are invited.”

“Really? Well that would be real nice of him. Thanks for the tip.”

“My pleasure. Now go,” Tony said and glanced at the clock. Time to shut up shop. “Bruce, I suppose you want tomorrow off.”

“Yes, sir. Even Wal-Mart shuts down one day a year.”

“Saps. Very well. But be here all the earlier the next day. None of this boxing shit.”

“That's the Commonwealth, sir.”

“What wealth?”

“Commonwealth. We don’t do it in the US.”

“Really? Good. If anyone calls while YOU are locking up I’ll be at Rosie’s Diner.”

“Yes, sir.” 

No one called. Tony took his usual supper of extra greasy cheeseburger with curly fries at his usual booth in the back of the old streetcar diner. In no hurry to return to his humble abodes, he read an investment magazine while finishing off a hot cocoa. So OK he kept the people who wanted to get home to their families on Christmas Eve late, but what did he care? Christmas was a commercial racket invented by a big corporation back East, or so Lucy Van Pelt said, and she ought to know.

When the head cook threatened him with a butcher knife, he took the hint and left. Snow was starting to fall, but he couldn’t see wasting money on a taxi when he had two perfectly good legs. Climbing the ancient steps of the old brownstone, he dug his key out and was about to put it into the lock when he noticed the knocker. Blinking back his surprise, he could have sworn it was the face of Phil Coulson, his old business partner, smiling at him. Wiping the moisture out of his eyes, he stared at the knocker again, but this time it was just a brass knocker.

“You are just tired,” he told himself and unlocked the door. Still the image of Coulson’s grinning face was enough to make him do a thorough search of his house just to make sure. Turning on all the lights, he descended the stairs to check out the basement first, an old lacrosse stick his weapon of choice…just in case. The washing machine and dryer were in their usual place, as was the laundry hamper and coal furnace, but just to be safe he swatted the laundry hamper and listened. Nothing. Back upstairs to the kitchen. Had the Swifter Sweeper taken a stroll since the maid last used it? What about the milk in the frig? Did it look as if someone had taken a sip? Wasn’t Phil lactose intolerant?

Shutting off all the downstairs lights, he raced upstairs and then spun around to make sure no one was following him. OK, so far so good. Sprinting down the hall, he turned the light in the master bed room on, raced back down the hall to turn that light off then almost killed himself getting back to his bed room. Slamming the door behind him, leaning his back against it, he stopped to catch his breath and still his heart when he heard something like a motor starting up.

Probably someone outside.

Tony made a small fire to chase the chill away and turned on the TV to catch the latest news from CNN. The world was going to hell in a hand bag, but that was to be expected. What did he care when his profits were going through the roof.

The car thrummed louder, sounding as if it was right outside his bedroom door. What the hell was going on! A wispy smoke filter up from under the door and solidified in front of him. Phil Coulson! It was Phil Coulson!

“Hey, Tony. Good to see you,” the specter said personably. Phil was always such a nice guy.

“That! That! That noise,” Tony stammered and drew his knees up and peered at Phil over the tops of them.

“Oh that’s just Lola,” Phil said and glanced back at the door.

“Your car is a ghost?” Tony stammered.

“Oh Lola had a soul,” Phil assured him. “May I sit down?’ 

Tony vigorously bobbed his head. “Why are you here?” he gasped fearfully.

Phil took a deep breath and said, “You are a real jackass, Tony, and I’ve been granted permission to get you some help.”

“Psychiatric?” Tony choked anxiously.

“Oh no, this is level twenty stuff. You are going to be visited by some spirits to night. Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future. Show you where you screwed up. See if we can get you back on track.”

Tony lowered his knees. “What happens if it doesn’t work?”

“Well, ever hear of Tahiti?”

“It’s a mystical place,” Tony responded and then cocked his brow. “How do I know that?”

Phil just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t make us send you to Tahiti, Tony.”

Tony shook his head. “No, of course not.”

Phil, still smiling, stood up. “Walk with me,” he said and led Tony to the window. “Look out.” Tony looked out and the street was full of transparent people in muumuus and really ugly Hawaiian shirts. They were flying and floating everywhere looking utterly miserable. “Imagine spending all eternity with Elvis’ Blue Hawaii shirt on,” Phil warned him.

Tony grimaced. He hated Hawaiian shirts, even when he was in Hawaii. “I thank you for this warning,” he told Phil. “I think I can do this on my own. I mean who wants to spend eternity with Elvis Presley's face on your clothing.”

“One man’s hell is another’s heaven,” Phil said and walked back slowly towards the door with Tony beside him. “Heed the spirits, Tony. You fuck up this time and you’re outta here.”

“You always were a good friend, Phil.”

“ Good night, Tony, and a Merry Christmas.” Phil vanished and the roar of Lola exploded in the hallway before going stone cold silent. Opening the door and peeking out, Tony couldn’t see anything. Slamming the door shut, he ran back to the window and peered out. Nothing!

“Just a hallucination,” he muttered but still thought it best to hurry up and get into bed. Pulling the covers over his head, he only fitfully went to sleep.


	2. The Ghosts of Christmas Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets to see his past with Cap and Falcon

Tony did not know what had awakened him because it was still dark in his bedroom. In fact it was so dark he couldn’t tell where the wall ended and the window began which was puzzling since like when was the last time it was that dark in New York City?

Lifting his glow in the dark Rolex, he stared at the watch face and saw that it was twelve. Odd. What had awakened him from such a deep and peaceful sleep beneath his goose down comforter? 

“I told you that would wake this fool up,” a male voice, the source of the speaker invisible to Tony, said gruffly.

“Now, Sam, it’s Christmas,” another male voice responded.

“Sorry, but he’s still a fool,” the first voice answered back.

Tony pulled the covers up to his face as two male figures materialized before his very eyes. Captain America and Falcon! Falcon was wearing his jet pack and had the good decency to be standing on the floor. Captain America like some demented genie sat cross legged on an invisible flying carpet in midair. To make it even odder, he wasn’t even wearing his Captain America uniform. It was leisure pants and a real ugly green Christmas sweater with elves on the front of it.

“Are you the ghosts Phil told me about?” he asked anxiously.

“We are,” Sam Wilson answered. 

“So what do you represent?”

“We are the ghosts of Christmas Past,” Steve answered with a gentle smile.

“Long past?”

“No, just yours,” Sam answered with a look of impatience on his face. “So get your butt out of bed and let’s go.”

“But it’s cold and I’ll freeze,” Tony protested.

“Oh hell, get up! No one’s going to let you freeze…or fall.”

“Fall?” Tony asked as he climbed out of bed.

“Yeah, fall,” Sam repeated and clasped Tony under the arms and lifted him up.

The next thing Tony knew he was flying beneath the Falcon over the streets of New York City with Steve the demented genie gliding along beside them. They were not only flying out of the city but also going back in time. Tony gazed at the ground and started remembering things about it.

“Oh my,” he breathed in awe.

“What is it?” Steve asked curiously.

“This is the private boarding school I went to as a boy,” he said and wiggled his legs. Sam lowered them to the ground and released the man.

“Do you remember the way?” Steve asked and stepped off his invisible flying carpet.

“I can run it all the way,” Tony said and took off at a sprint.

Sam looked at Steve and asked, “Can we get some real clothes on him? I was afraid of what people might see if they looked up and saw us.”

“Valid point,” Steve said and blinked his eyes.

“That really is creepy,” Sam opined as they ambled after the now appropriate dressed Tony running ahead of them. “Where’d you learn that from?”

“Barbara Eden,” Steve answered as Tony stopped and stared at a convertible full of boys and girls in school uniforms.

“My god, that’s Larry du Pont and Brucie Rockefeller,” Tony remarked in awe. “I thought they’d sent Larry up for embezzlement in 2004. And Honey Potts.” He turned to Steve with a big smile on his face and said, “Honey lived up to her name.”

“These are but the shadows of things once …was….were?” Steve said and glanced at Sam for confirmation.

“Don’t ask me, I just carry the dude.” 

“There’s my school,” Tony said and continued his walk towards the building. Inside sat a boy all alone. Young Tony was missing another Christmas with the family.

“Why aren’t you going home for Christmas?” Sam asked with a note of compassion in his voice.

“I blew up dad’s lab. After that he didn’t want me anywhere near it.”

“Ah got yah.”

“Wow that Honey sure was hot, I wonder what she’s doing now?” Steve asked with a far away look in his eye.  
Steve rolled his eyes and asked, “Recognize this place?” The scene changed and they were standing in an office building in the middle of a Christmas party.

Tony looked around, his eyes wide with wonder, his mouth gaping in awe. “Why it’s my first job as Warren Laboratories, Inc. consolidated in 1999.” Tony’s eyes fell on a man getting loud and crazy by the punch bowl in front of a half dozen admiring office girls. “Clint! That’s Clint! I forgot that this was where we met.”

“You spent the 80s and 90s in a cocaine induced haze,” Steve reminded him.

Tony frowned. “Yeah, that’s right. But look at Clint. He was always the lady’s man.”

“But there was one lady he couldn’t impress,” Steve said as the crowd magically parted to show a very pretty girl sitting on a desk being chatted up by a suit from accounting.

“Pepper! Pepper Potts,” Tony said and slowly moved towards her as if being pulled by a string. “Oh Pepper, I have missed you.”

“Remember these are but shadows…..”

“Yeah, was or were,” Sam stopped Steve and followed Tony.

Tony glanced around at Sam and said, “She was always crazy about me.” 

A young suave Tony Stark sidled up to the desk and said, “How about a poke, sweet heart?”

Tony looked at Steve and said, “That was reference from Lonesome…..”

“Dove. Yeah I got the DVD, ” Steve answered as suave Tony continued to smooze the clearly infatuated Pepper off her feet. 

“Yeah, so what happened?” Sam finally asked.

“This,” Steve answered and the scene changed again. This time young Tony was sitting in a Ferrari with Pepper sitting beside him.

“Oh no, please not this,” Tony begged, his heart breaking.

“Gotta take the bad with the good,” Steve replied as the scene unfolded.

Pepper was sad faced and holding the collar of her mink coat tight to her throat. “Oh Tony, I just can’t go on like this anymore.”

Tony sniffed and wiped his nose. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Another thing has taken my place in your heart.”

“Really? What?”

“Power…and drugs….and real loose women,” she answered with a shrug.

“Nah, you’re still my number one girl.”

“Number one?” Pepper asked in shock. “How many are there?”

“Not that many.”

Sam gazed disapprovingly at Tony and said, “You were an idiot.”

Pepper got out of the car and walked away while young Tony made no effort to call her back. “I should have never let her go,” old Tony said and sniffed back the tears.

Steve laid a hand on his shoulder and said. “These are but….”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it…shadows of things that once were,” Tony answered. Steve and Sam glanced at each other and mouthed ‘that’s the one’. 

“What have you learned from this?” Steve asked compassionately.

Tony looked at him with tears in his eyes and said, “You’re a real arrogant dick, but so was I. Take me home guys. Take me home.”

Sam grabbed Tony under the arms while Steve climbed back on his invisible flying carpet. While Tony sobbed into the night, they carried him back home and dropped him off in his room.

“I’m going to need a chiropractor after this night,” Sam grumped as he and Steve faded.

Tony fell back into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Lonesome Dove came out...men everywhere were asking for a poke.


	3. The Ghost of Christmas Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is visited by Thor, the stand in for Santa. Tony learns the true meaning of the Christmas spirit

Tony awakened himself with a loud snore and gazed curiously at his watch which told him he had only been asleep an hour, unless time was in the middle of a quantum flux and he’d jetted through the world’s smallest black hole, which kind of seemed unlikely. Pondering hard on whether or not his encounter with Captain America and the Falcon had been real, a dream, or a hallucination brought on by bad Chernobyl vodka, he drew his covers up tight under his chin and waited for what was coming next. 

The fireplace, long cold and dormant, sprang to life and created a warm and hearty glow in the solemn room. Tony raised the quilt higher and cut his eyes towards it. Food! Food galore appeared and covered every table and a tree that reached the ceiling materialized before him. Next a powerful man in archaic clothes and a loose open green robe showed himself.

“Santa?” Tony asked nervously.

“Thor!” the exceedingly handsome blond man retorted cheerfully while reaching for a whole chicken. “Master Santa has to make his rounds tonight, so I am his stand in.”

Tony frowned momentarily and lowered the quilt. “Santa has a stand in?” he asked curiously.

“Granted, I am not normally associated with the mass of Christ, but we Asgardians do believe in powers higher than ourselves,” Thor explained between bites as he engulfed the chicken. A stein of mulled wine followed. “A little sweet,” he said thoughtfully while staring at the now empty stein, “but it will suffice.” Wiping his mouth on the right green sleeve, he grinned at Tony and said, “Come, partake of a small meal before we leave. My time is limited.”

Tony crawled out of bed and reached for a slice of cake and popped it into his mouth. “This is good.”

“Indeed it is,” Thor agreed. “Now that you are finished with your repast, we must go. Hold on to my robe and see the day of mass of Christ present.”

Tony had to momentarily translate what was said in his head. “You’re the ghost of Christmas present. Gotcha. Lead on, Thor.”

Once more the streets of New York were dark and gloomy. Tony could not remember a time, except maybe during the great back out, when New York was dark. However, as they walked, he took note of the neighborhood and the people out shoveling their sidewalks. They were nice! Calling out Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukah even a pagan Winter Yule. Gotta love New York’s multiculturalism. Wherever they passed angry faces brightened, hearts lifted, even the beggars found a smile for the day.

“You’re doing that,” Tony said and stared at Thor’s torch.

“Indeed,” Thor agreed. “It is the least I can do for those who need it most.”

Tony considered this as apartment after apartment was blessed by Thor’s bountiful torch. No meal too small or too meager was not blessed and became a feast for the souls of those who did indeed need it most.

“You are a man who can have anything he wants but keeps a miser’s house,” Thor said as they continued down the street, “and yet these people hold more cheer in their hearts with the least of possessions than you.”

For the first time in his life Tony felt shame. So many times he had walked past kettles collecting money for the poor. “I’ll call in a donation first thing they’re open again,” he promised.

“Good!” Thor beamed. “Come.” 

They continued walking until at last they reached a very poor apartment building in a very poor part of the city. “Who lives here?” Tony asked as they climbed the broken steps to the door, which they easily passed through.

“Who indeed,” Thor responded. “Know you not the woman in attendance?”

Tony stared at the attractive if poorly attired woman and finally recognized her. “That’s Betty, Bruce’s wife. I didn’t know they lived here.”

“There is much you know not of your assistant’s life,” Thor said as two children came running through the house. Twins! Bruce had twins! And a daughter? No, not one but two! Well that sort of answered why he was always in a hurry to get home.

“They’re coming!” Bruce Banner child number one shouted excitedly.

“Hide Marion,” Mrs. Banner told her oldest daughter who ran to the broom closest and hid inside of it.

Bruce, holding a small boy with braces on his legs on his shoulder, entered the house with a Merry Christmas for his family. Setting the small boy on a stool, he looked around and asked, “Marion going to be late?”

“Can’t make it,” Betty said with a sad smile. “Snowed in.”

“Oh, no,” Bruce sighed heavily. “I told her she was moving too far away.”

Suddenly the broom closet burst open and Marion ran into her father’s arms. “I couldn’t stay away even in a snow storm,” she said and hugged her father tightly.

Tony felt his eyes get watery as the Banner’s set their table and pulled a couple of roast chickens out of the oven along with some Stove Top Stuffing and canned veggies. “This isn’t much to eat for such a large family, “Tony opined.

“No, it’s not,” Thor replied and scowled down at him, “but on his salary, what can he afford?”

“Food stamps! People have food stamps.”

Thor suddenly whacked Tony on the head with his balled up hand. “Miser!”

Rubbing his head, Tony grimaced and said, “Well, I suppose he is due a raise.” Thor’s face turned even uglier. “Yes, a raise is in order. I will give him a raise.”

“You better, or I will be back,” Thor assured him. 

“What’s wrong with the little boy?”

“I know not the name of it, but if it’s not corrected soon, I see an empty plate at the table next year.”

Tony stared at the little boy in horror. “He will die? Oh no, yes, a raise is in order. Maybe I can get some specialists on this. Yes. Yes, that is what I will do.”

Thor smiled. “Good. Come.”

The next apartment they went to was Peter Parker’s where he was throwing a Christmas party that included Rumlow, Rollins and half of Hydra. “I was joking,” Tony assured the spirit. “I didn’t expect Peter to take them in.”

“Your cousin has a bigger heart than you,” Thor said. “Because of him all of these men but one will change their evil ways.”

“Why not all of them?”

Thor shrugged. “Some can not be saved even with all the good cheer of the world before them.” He creased his brows and gave Tony a hard look. “It is a pity he has no one looking out for him.”

Tony considered it and had to agree, if not for Phil he might end up like that poor Hydra agent, on the wrong side of justice. When everyone started singing Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer, Thor decided it was time to leave.

For the remainder of his time Thor took Tony to the far ends of the earth to spread Christmas cheer. Soldiers in a far off land, homesick and scared were treated first to the joy of Thor’s fire. A soldier mother skyped with her daughter, a son called his parents and got through. A church congregation in hiding from those who would harm them felt the true meaning of the season and for that time were unafraid. Little did they notice the paltry meal they had did not seem to dwindle for quite some time.

Nonbelievers were also blessed with good tidings. A Buddhist monk in his temple could not suppress the smile that brightened his face. An atheist on an aircraft carrier felt peace and smiled at the star lit heavens. A man angry at the world for its injustices for a short while let his heart and passion rest. A young woman afraid of the future found solace and support from a family that she thought had abandoned her.

Wherever they went Tony witnessed the wonder that was Christmas played out before him. When he returned to his bed, he felt peace for the first time in ages.

“You will be visited by the last of the spirits when the clock chimes two,” Thor told him and tucked him in all nice and warm.

Tony, smiling contentedly, looked into Thor’s handsome face and asked, “Can you leave some of the food? I want to send it to someone.”

Thor laughed and said, “Consider it done.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have written pages upon pages for this one, but I want to get it done before Christmas. It is my favorite chapter so far....although the Ghosts of Christmas Future will be tearing up furniture next.


	4. The Ghosts of Christmas Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is now visited by Natasha the Ghost of Christmas Future and her boyfriend the Winter Soldier. He sees the world as it will be if he doesn't change his way.

Tony awoke with a horrified start at the sound of crashing furniture. Reaching for the lacrosse stick beside the bed, he stared with wide eyes at the old straight back chair lying on its back beside a wavering end table followed by a woman’s amused laughter.

“Who’s there?” he demanded nervously as the end table tipped over and the expensive antique lamp crashed to the floor in a million pieces.

“Oops,” the woman’s voice said and giggled again. “Oh look, he’s awake.”

Tony stared in amazement as one of the most beautiful red haired women that he has ever seen materialized in the tipped over chair. A moment later a rather large unruly haired man with goggles materialized leaning against the edge of the tipped over chair. They were both staring at him.

“Who are you?” Tony asked anxiously and readied the lacrosse stick like a baseball bat. 

The woman rolled clear of the chair and stood up smoothly while zipping up the cat suit that exposed too much of her ample bosom. The scary man made a growling sound as he stood up.

“I’m Natasha the Ghost of Christmas Future,” the sexy woman answered as the scary man righted the chair. With his back turned to him, Tony could see the metallic arm of the scary man.

“That lamp was an expensive antique,” Tony menaced as the scary man picked up the end table. He growled something Tony couldn’t hear. “What was that?”

“He said ‘not anymore’.”

“Who is he?”

“Oh, he’s the Winter Soldier. If you don’t meet my approval, he’s going to kill you.” And that was why the Ghost of Christmas Future was the scariest of the spirits visiting Tony. “Up! Up!” she laughed and virtually skipped to his side. “Come, we need to go.”

Crawling out of bed and slipping on the bathrobe Natasha held out for him, he stared at the Winter Soldier and said, “He’s not going to shoot me anytime soon, is he?”

“No, not unless I tell him to. Right, moy dorogaya?” she asked the Winter Soldier, who growled his answer.

“You understood that?” Tony asked as he slipped on his house slippers.

“Of course,” she answered and leaned back on the bed, her eyes raking the Winter Soldier’s leather and keflar clad body. “O, ya vizhu, vy pistolet vse ravno zagruzhayetsya,” she purred in her voice. He smiled lecherously with a short nod. She reached forward and pulled him closer by his pistol belt.

Tony perturbed looked back at her and frowned. “Are you going to be doing this the entire time?”

Natasha smiled. “Probably.” Hopping up, planting a kiss on the Winter Soldier’s lips, she spun around to Tony and pulled him to his feet. Encircling his arm with hers, she said, “We’re off to see the wizard….” And they vanished.

When they materialized, they were in front of Stark Industries. Nick Fury and Clint Barton with Maria Hill were standing there looking up at the building. “So it’s now going to be run by a committee with a hired CEO,” Clint said with a sigh.

“That’s what I heard. I never thought that bastard would die. Do you know when his funeral is?” Fury growled.

“Not sure, but I’ll check the obits and give you a call. I may not go unless they serve food afterwards,” Maria answered. “At least make it worth my while. I slaved for that man forever and all I ever got was an Atta Girl, Next Year Try Harder.” 

Tony frowned and nervously asked, “Who are they talking about?”

Natasha wrapped tight around the Winter Soldier trying to swallow his tongue, released the assassin and said, “You.”

Tony turned to her, shock on his face. “These people are supposed to be my friends.”

“Surprise!” Natasha retorted sarcastically and threw up her hands. Within seconds she was crawling back up the soldier’s body to kiss him again.

“How far in the future is this?” he demanded irritably. “And can you let him go long enough to talk to me?”

Natasha snorted and released the Winter Soldier. “Terpeniye moy sladkiy,” she said when the Soldier started to draw his weapon. He hesitated and then slipped it back into his holster. Without saying a word he hooked his thumbs inside his pistol belt. “It could be a year, it could be ten years,” she answered cryptically. “But as you see, because you are a mean miserly ass, no one likes you.” Suddenly smiling, she said, “I want to show you something else.” And they vanished again.

Reappearing in a pawn shop of all places. “What are we doing here?” he asked suspiciously and looked around.

Natasha, sitting on the glass counter, replied, “Wait and see.”

Tony heard the bell over the door ring and turned around to see his Hispanic maid enter the shop with a straw basket full of ‘HIS STUFF’, his glow in the dark Rolex, a gold pen desk set, silver forks and spoons, anything she could get in the little basket was dumped on the counter.

The pawn shop owner bellied up to the counter and picked up the Rolex for a better look. “So how much you want for this Carmen?”

“A fair price,” she answered nervously as the door opened behind her and someone else Tony knew entered the shop.. “Mr. Stark was a bad man…a bad man, Mr. Jones. He never paid me on time, and now that’s he’s dead, I will never get all that he owed me. I have ninos to feed. So a fair price, Mr. Jones, por favor.”

“Choked to death in his sleep, I hear,” Jones said and eyed the man with a box of pilfered goods in it. 

“With no one to mourn him,” the tall thin man said unapologetically. 

“My driver,” Tony snorted in disgust. “I can only imagine what he stole.”

Carmen, waiting on a decision, looked at the other man and said, “If he had been a nicer man, maybe someone would have been looking out for him when he got sick.”

“All the money in the world and he died alone in the dark,” the tall thin man said solemnly looking more like a preacher than a chauffer. 

Tony listened to them talk about his death like they were glad he was gone. “Does no one mourn my passing?” He looked at Natasha, but she was still sitting on the glass counter now trying to clean out the Soldier’s right ear with her tongue. “Can’t you stay focused for thirty minutes?” he asked impatiently.

Natasha moved the Soldier back with her hand on his breast and hopped down. “You’re an ass. Why would anyone care?” she replied unsympathetically. “Unless you change your ways you are going to choke to death in your sleep. Ouch!” Plastering a big smile on her face, she hooked her arms through Tony’s and said, “Next!”

This time they materialized in a dark room, and it took Tony a moment to realize he was in a funeral home, and not one of the finer ones at that. Natasha released his arm as he eased towards an open coffin. With fear and apprehension on his face he peeked inside and recoiled at the sight of his own face frozen in death. He had died hard and it showed on his face.

“That’s me,” he gasped and turned back to Natasha. This time she was standing there, arms folded under her breasts with a solemn look on her face. 

“That’s you,” she agreed. “Not very pretty.”  
Tony was stunned at these turn of events. “I can not believe this is my fate…that I have brought this all on myself.”

Natasha showed a sympathetic face as she reached for Tony’s hand. “There is more to see.”

They stepped out of the shadows into the solemn home of Bruce Banner’s. Where there had been warmth and laughter there was now sadness and tears as mother and daughters went about their domestic chores. 

Tony glanced down at Natasha and shivered. “Where’s the little boy?’ he asked fearfully.

“Watch and see,” Natasha said as the door opened and Bruce entered the apartment. He looked older than last seen, and there was a deep melancholy about him.

Mrs. Banner, handing her husband a hot cider, said, “You went there today?”

“I promised him I would,” the man said and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. Suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore and covered his eyes with his hand and wept bitterly. “Oh my little one,” he sobbed. “Oh my little one.”

Tony turned back to Natasha and said, “Tell me this can be changed, that you aren’t showing me this if it can’t be changed.”

“More,” Natasha said and took his hand again.

The world spun before Tony’s eyes. He witnessed his office being occupied by other men; he saw strangers working where Bruce had toiled so faithfully all his years. He saw his name come down from the building roof and get replaced by something a little less odious in the minds of the public. He saw all his accomplishments vanish like smoke from a cigarette.

They ended in a graveyard where Natasha pointed at an open grave. Tony shuddered and looked at her. “This is my fate? A plot of dirt in a cemetary where no one will visit or miss me.” Clutching her arm, he said, “Please tell me I can undo this vision, that I can still make amends for what I’ve done.”

“Teper' moya lyubov,” Natasha told the Winter Soldier who removed a round silver looking grenade from his belt and inserted it in his grenade launcher.

“No!” Tony exclaimed in horror. “No! I repent of my miserly ways! I will keep the spirit of Christmas in my heart forever, I promise!”

The Soldier wasn’t listening to him as he raised his weapon to fire it at Tony.

“No! No! Spare me! Spare me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moy dorogaya: my darling  
> O, ya vizhu, vy pistolet vse ravno zagruzhayetsya: Oh I see your gun is still loaded.  
> terpeniye moy sladkiy: patience my sweet  
> Teper' moya lyubov': Now my Love


	5. Merry Christmas New York City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and so our Christmas tale comes to an end. God Bless Us everyone

Tony awoke screaming “Don’t shoot!” as he battled his bedcovers. Finally freeing himself, his head popping up in confusion, he looked around the room and realized that he was in his own room, in his own bed, and there was no sign of Natasha and her psychopathic boyfriend. And there were no holes in his body!

Lunging for the remote on the chest at the foot of his bed, he pressed a button and turned on the TV. Merry Christmas the message shown. December the 25th. “I haven’t missed it! I haven’t missed it!” he stated in awe and amazement. Rubbing his hands together, he glanced over at the table where Thor had left the mountain of food. Only it was now all boxed up with well wishes on them.

“Oh this is going to be great!” he laughed and jumped out of bed to hurriedly dress. With no one to drive his limo, this being Christmas after all, he had to load it by himself, but never was a task so wonderful in the heart of miserly Stark…only he wasn’t miserly Stark anymore. No! No, Tony Stark was not going to be remembered as the Miser of Manhattan. No, he was going to be remembered as the greatest boss ever. 

Driving to the homes of his maid and chauffer, he left care packages outside their doors and rang the buzzers loud until he knew someone was coming to answer it, then he scooted out of the way and peered around the corner with a big grin on his face to watch. Such joy as huge 12th day cakes and roast beefs were carried into apartments that had never seen such things. Oranges and apples rolled across the floors. Even tamales! And candies of every kind. Such was the food that Thor had left behind.

Of course the bulk of the goods went to poor loyal Bruce Banner. Giggling like a maniacal madman, Tony dropped off boxes and boxes of food. No roast chickens today! There were roast turkey breasts and Virginia hams, apple cider and wine! And pies! Pecan, razzleberry (who knew such a pie really existed?), peach and apple. And pumpkin! A feast for sure. And once more hiding behind a wall, he peered cautiously around the corner as Bruce came to see who was disturbing them this early in the morning. Oh the joy! Yes, Bruce, that was all for you and yours, and tomorrow I will make it better. Promise. Who wanted to deal with Thor or psychopathic boyfriend again?

This was perfect! Just perfect! Sighing wistfully as he returned to his limo, he glanced up at the apartment window and a small face was gazing down at him. Putting his finger to his lips, he smiled and waved ‘bye-bye’. Yes, tomorrow he and Bruce were going to have a grand old talk.

At the appointed hour for Peter Parker’s Christmas Party, Tony showed up in his finest and asked, “Is the offer still open, cousin?”

“Of course, cousin! Of course, come in!” 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Phil Coulson, from the observation tower at the Empire State Building, gazed out across the city that never sleeps with a wisp of a smile on his face. Behind him his special team was assembling before he cut them loose for now.

“I think he’ll be a better man now,” Cap said and stuck his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants.

“I believe so,” Phil agreed and turned to gaze with affection at this remarkable team. Captain America, the wind gently blowing his golden hair back from his face, was a picture of nobility. Sam, eating a breakfast a heat and eat cheeseburger, looked at him as if so say ‘what? I’m hungry” was as loyal and true a friend as anyone could ask for. And Thor, tall majestic Thor, gazing out across the city like a conquering hero was truly a prince among men.

“Thor,” he said and brushed his chin. Thor grinned and wiped the left over cake from his own chin.

And his soviet assassins. Natasha was sitting on a bench with most of Bucky lying on the bench with her, his head in her lap, her fingers in his hair. 

“Thank-you,” he finally said with a bigger smile on his face. “I can see a brighter future for my old friend.”

Natasha returned his smile and then pinched her boyfriend’s arm and jumped up. “Catch me and you can have your Christmas present,” she told him. With that she jumped up and made a run for it. Passing through the railing, she vanished into space with Bucky hard on her heels. A few moments later there was a loud crash somewhere ‘out there’ and snow collapsing from the roof of a distant building followed by a woman’s laughter.

“I believe our friend has captured his fair lady,” Thor laughed approvingly. “Merry mass of Christ, New York!” he bellowed, waved his staff of good cheer, and vanished.

“Now can we go have some turkey and dressing? Or a ham, I’m not picky,” Sam growled at Cap.

Cap, hands still in his pockets, turned to his friend and said, “Who’s cooking?”

“My grandma, but she’s already said you’re welcome.”

“Well in that case, lead on….”

Cap and Sam vanished just as smoothly as the others. Standing alone on the observation floor, Phil nodded his approval as Lola materialized before him. Walking across empty space to climb inside, he turned on the radio to a channel playing generic Christmas songs, although he suspected Ho Ho Ho might have a double meaning, and drove away. Lola vanishing into the air of New York City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a cashier and get bored easily as work. This little story just played with me until I wrote it. Hope you enjoyed reading it.

**Author's Note:**

> still working on other stories....but I just had to get this out of my head. It simply wouldn't go away.


End file.
